


Feather

by ally_mcgee



Category: Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb
Genre: F/F, Genderfluid Character, Haunting of Withywoods Manor, Illustrations, except not scary, generic goth AU, obligatory candles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28384329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ally_mcgee/pseuds/ally_mcgee
Summary: My Winterfest piece for the lovely Nettle<3prompt I chose was Bee/Ash: secrets, and to avoid accidental spoilers for the last books I went weird fancy goth AUI hope you like it! Happy Holidays!
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Winterfest - Rote Gift Exchange☆





	Feather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sorrow_key](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrow_key/gifts).



Withywoods Manor had an odd reputation. It had stood empty for quite some years but someone was still paying a skeleton staff of servants to keep it in shape. Everyone in town agreed that the house was beautiful and the slightly out of control garden added to it's spooky appeal.

The eldest son of an army general was rumoured to have died there, and visitors claimed to hear voices from inside the walls. 

"Was no ordinary death that one", the old gardener told the draper who had been called to evaluate moth damage in the old furniture, "he was murdered!"

"Nonsense", said the man working the stables, "He died in an accident far away from here."

The old man shook his head. "No, I'm telling you, 'twas murder in cold blood."

"I heard him!" the draper piped in, "he spoke to me from inside a fireplace!"

"Don't you people have work to do?" huffed the carpenter, who rather they helped with the planks than stand around telling ghost stories, "the young Lady will be here soon and it would not do for her to find this place a pigsty!"

Reluctantly the men headed back to their tasks, the draper even pretending to hold some of the weight of the planks.

*

The new mistress of the Manor was a strange creature. She looked barely out of her teens but spoke with wisdom far beyond one human life.

"Orphaned so young will do that to a person", an old wife selling vegetables at the market might say, and shake her head sadly. 

"She's not at orphan! Her father is royalty in a faraway land", another knew to tell, "he sent her here to be safe until it is time for her to claim her rightful throne!"

"She is a faery changeling! I have seen the ring of mushrooms in the kitchen garden with my own eyes!"

"No, no, no", the cloudy-eyed old sea-captain interrupted, "she is a gift from the sea. That's why she's the colour of sea foam."

Lady of Dreams and Candles the townsfolk called her, and they all grew to feel a great deal of respect for her. But while she was never anything but the very picture of politeness, there was an odd detachment to her. She always appeared to be a little hazy around the edges, as if partially obscured by the weight of the secrets she carried. 

The Lady was rarely seen without her personal servant, a young soft spoken man who according to some was a bodyguard and according to others, the young woman's lover whom she had rescued from some terrible fate by making him her closest confidante. 

Every detail about the Lady seemed to turn into a wildly exciting story. Perhaps she was just too unusual to have an ordinary past.

Like the bird. Some said it was merely a clever animal, but those were in the minority. Most believed the curiously marked crow to be either an escaped pet of a southern pirate that had flown across the land to find a new home, or a boon granted for doing some great favour to a Lord of the Underworld. Or possibly, the soul of a dead mother, sent back from beyond the veil to guard the life of the lonely young woman. 

Whatever the truth, the Lady seemed perfectly content with the company of the servant and the bird, and everyone in town knew that those two were her sole companions when she made her yearly trip to the Mountains to consult with the Spirits.

_And so it begins;_

_with a feather in the wind_

_A tired heart now light as air._

_The currents of the river_

_bend around the shiny pebble._

_And the past is painless to bear._

**Author's Note:**

> I can't draw birds but I am rather proud of that tea cup


End file.
